


Royal Favor

by Carmarthen



Series: Pax Sarenica [2]
Category: Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Lady Knights, Loyalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmarthen/pseuds/Carmarthen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year or so after the events of "Between the Wolves," Jon asks Alex for a favor. Alex never does anything for free, not even for the man who didn't have him executed on Traitor's Hill. Alternate universe, canon setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Favor

**Author's Note:**

> The first openly female squire in this 'verse is not Keladry, for reasons I haven't entirely worked out yet but probably related to Tortall's really awful political and military situation. As usual, I tend to think Alex's motives in SOTL were at least partially inspired by feeling like his native Hill Country got the shaft. Someday I'll write a canon-compliant Alex story trying to make sense of him. This is not that story.
> 
> Thanks to osprey_archer for the beta!

"No."

"It's only for two years," Jon said. He had taken off his crown and set it on the table, and he was rubbing his temples like he had a headache. Headaches were one of the lovely privileges to being king, and Alex heartlessly refused to feel guilty about this one, which was not really his fault anyway.

"I don't take squires." To be strictly accurate, he had not taken a squire since Henrim; Alex had sworn to teach and guide and protect, and he had failed. Jon of all people ought to know he couldn't take another squire.

Jon sighed. "I know, and I wouldn't have suggested it, but you know there are not many possibilities." That was true. Most of the older knights would refuse; a few of the younger ones would accept, only to sabotage the girl. Alanna was politically impossible--Alex allowed himself a small smile, for Alanna was always impossible, in so many varied and wondrous ways.

"Raoul could do it. He's hardly ever at court."

Jon's mouth twisted a little. "Raoul has...other concerns at present. In fact, he will soon be taking leave from the Own until he has dealt with them."

That was interesting, and Alex filed the information away for further contemplation later. "Gary."

"Everyone already knows women can be fine clerks, and you know that is what people will say if Gary takes her on."

"I'm not a fighting knight, either," Alex pointed out. "Not these days." Not with a sword, anyway.

"You're still the best available choice," Jon said. "And if young Tasride makes it through two years in the Saren court, she'll know better than most what Tortall is facing in the coming years. She can learn the fighting later, and you're the best swordsman in Tortall. I've no doubt she'll be well-prepared."

Alex frowned down at his hands. Sometimes he still felt like they belonged to someone else. There were gaps in his memory, great patches of blurry darkness punctuated by starkly vivid moments of color: the gleam of light off Roger's ring; Delia's white, terrified face; Alanna's eyes, confused and hurt; the feel of his sword hilt in his hand and the torchlight flickering liquid flame up and down the blade. He had thought of going to Delia, of asking her to tell him what he had done during that year after Roger was raised by Lord Thom, but he wasn't sure her memory was much better, or that she would tell him the truth. She had ended up imprisoned for life, while he was still Sir Alexander of Tirragen, and the Tortallan ambassador to Sarain. 

The only other person he might ask was Alanna, but she could not possibly answer most of his questions, and besides, he did not wish to shatter the fragile peace between them.

He had taken care that no one, not even Jon, knew how little he remembered of that time. Jon still trusted him, when Alex could not trust himself. With that trust he had bought himself Alex's loyalty for life—not his owed fealty to the Crown but his personal loyalty unto death, although Alex never planned to tell him that.

And the girl was a Hillwoman, at least. That was something.

"All right."

Jon smiled, the same Conté smile Roger had had, and despite himself Alex still felt the pull of it. He almost shivered. "I owe you," Jon said, with obvious relief, and Alex smiled back.

Jon really ought to know better. Someday Alex would collect.


End file.
